


out to feed the hunger

by CrypticVirago



Series: heart made of glass (mind of stone) [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Nines becomes sassy, RK900 is Nines, because he wants them to get along, makes sense right?, return of the phck, they'll get there. eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-14 23:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16050539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrypticVirago/pseuds/CrypticVirago
Summary: Don't take his shit sitting down, Hank had said. Be a bit more confrontational in your approaches, Connor had advised. Nines should go ahead and do that, especially because his partner seems very adamant about not eating, and Reed doesn't necessarily like to listen to him.





	out to feed the hunger

_Follow me, follow me when its dark out_

_I will be, I will be your lighthouse_

_And if you're lost_

_I'll lead you back home_

 

* * *

 

Upon initially meeting Detective Gavin Reed, Nines had a… difficult time adjusting to the man’s coarse attitude. It was irritating to continually face his unwarranted and harsh criticisms. It was frustrating to have to be verbally harassed when Nines was just trying to do his _job_ as Gavin’s partner. It was everything that Connor had warned him off, short of physical violence. The detective had pinned him up against the wall shortly after their first meeting, but thus far, there had been nothing worth filing a report for workplace harassment.

Still, the detective’s attitude and his stubborn refusal to change was irksome. It caused his job to be much more difficult than it should have been, having a partner that refused to have anything to do with him.

“Maybe you’ve been taking an incorrect approach,” Connor had suggested, only after Nines had voiced his frustrations aloud. “Detective Reed doesn’t seem willing to cooperate with you because you’re a pushover.”

“What do you mean by that?” Nines had questioned.

“Means you take his shit sitting down,” Hank had chimed in. “Listen, you’ve tried the good cop routine. Now you’ve gotta try to be the bad cop.”

“I think Hank’s right,” Connor agreed. “You’re too polite. You need to be a bit more forthright in your interactions with him. I know you’re not particularly interested in more confrontational approaches but –”

“If that is what it takes for him to acknowledge me as his partner, and to put us on equal ground, than it’s what I’m going to do.” He would by no means resort to any sort of physical violence, however. The thought of intentionally hurting someone made him considerably uneasy, especially when the factor of his physical strength came into count. He was six times stronger than the average human, enough to easily break even the densest of bones.

Detective Reed already understands that his badge is relying on his cooperation with his assigned partner – per Jeffery Fowler’s explicit instructions.

While Connor had been correct in his assumption that Nines did not prefer confrontational approaches, he wasn’t stupid. He knew that his partner was stubborn and unmovable, and his current methods were inadequate. If there was one thing that Nines was, it was adaptable.

Nines was a state of the art, advanced prototype made for investigation and apprehending suspects. And he _was_ solving cases, if albeit slowly due to his partners reluctance towards cooperation. He had been within the DPD for a total of five working days, and a missing persons case had been closed (though it had, sadly, not ended on a positive note). Rather than gracing Nines with some kind of appreciative acknowledgement that he had done well, a “Thanks for closing one of my thirteen open cases that I’m struggling with”, Nines had instead received more verbal abuse on behalf of his partner. An insistence that he didn’t need assistance from a plastic cop wanting to play dress up. It was irritating at best. At worst, infuriating. And it wasn’t something Nines was willing to take more of.

A clear opportunity presents itself, as one always does, when Detective Reed asks (orders) him to make coffee, to be delivered, as usual, to his desk and waiting hand. “Tin can,” Reed begins, and Nines had already feel the frustration mounting. “Get me a coffee.” When Nines doesn’t reply, nor move immediately after, he reiterates. “Are you deaf now, dipshit? Coffee. Now.”

“Get it yourself,” is all Nines responds with, without bothering to look up from his computer screen. There’s a satisfying six seconds of silence, with a stunned Reed obviously attempting to process what he had said in response to the demand.

“What the fuck?” Gavin responds with, and only then does Nines look at him, if only to be able to be satisfied at the irritated look on his face.

“If you want coffee, you’re either going to ask me nicely or you’re going to get it yourself,” Nines continues pointedly. “I’m not an AX400. I’m here to complete cases, not serve you coffee on a silver platter.” _That_ certainly didn’t go over well. Nines can see Gavin begin to retort, hears the intake of breath, that comes before the yelling, but Nines continued speaking before the detective has the opportunity. “Need I remind you that your employment status with the DPD is riding upon your cooperation with me? By all means, continue your retort. I can see you fired within the day.”

It’s a low blow, truly, and it felt rather cruel to go for the jugular like he had. If there was one thing that Nines was aware of it was that Detective Reed valued his job, indicated by his reaction when the Captain had threatened his removal. This was further solidified by the sickened shade the detective’s face takes, and by his paranoid glance towards Fowler’s office, where the captain can be seen speaking on the phone. He looks back to Nines, and the android raises an eyebrow at him.

“You’re _not_ going to replace me,” the detective snarls, but he’s speaking quietly, as though now afraid the captain can hear his every word. “I worked too fuckin’ hard to get here and I’m not going to have some fancy toaster fuck up my career.”

“I have a name, detective,” Nines reminds, the image of grace and patience. “It would be a good idea to remember it. Surely your memory isn’t that terrible.” With that, Nines returns his attention to his computer screen, to the security camera footage he was sweeping through, searching for a suspect’s car.

Detective Reed hardly says anything for the rest of the day, and he doesn’t ask Nines to get him coffee after that.

“What did you say to Reed?” Hank asks him later. “He looks like someone stuck a hot knife into his pride.”

“I merely told him that his career is at stake,” Nines responds, and Hank gives him a proud grin. “Though I feel I may have worded it a bit harshly.”

“Sometimes harsh is what you need,” Hank says. “He’s too big headed for his own good. He needs to be knocked down a couple pegs.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Connor agrees.

Things change after this. While there isn’t an improvement as to the relative politeness of their conversations, the difference is that Reed hardly says anything. He’s nervous, twitchy, around Nines now. And it rather feels that he’s afraid of him, which isn’t what Nines had been hoping for.

The days pass, cases roll in. The world doesn’t stop turning, and the problems within Detroit continue.

He soon learns that Detective Reed has a bad habit – Nines doesn’t know if it’s because he’s forgetful or if he’s too absorbed in his work, but there are many times were the man won’t take lunch. He works through his breaks more often than not, and Nines is worried that he’ll burn himself out.

Just because Nines wasn’t human, that didn’t mean he didn’t understand the limits of the human body. Despite the noise in the bullpen, he can hear the detective’s stomach growling from where he sits at his desk, and notices the subtle grimace on his face when it occurs. It’s nearing two in the afternoon and, predictably, the detective has skipped his break once again.

“You need to eat something, Detective,” Nines says quietly, though loud enough for the man to hear his voice.

“I’ll eat something later,” Reed dismisses, but he doesn’t remove his hands from his keyboard. He’s straining his eyes, appearing irritated and confused, but he continues to remain focused on whatever he is working on.

“Detective, I can hear your stomach from here.”

“Getting a little jealous?” is the witty comeback Nines receives. “I’m sure I can think of a few things you can shove in your fuckin’ mouth, cock sucker.”

Nines doesn’t bother to address the insult. “Detective, you’re much more agreeable when you’ve eaten,” he says instead. “There are several delis and bistros nearby. Would you be opposed to going to one to eat?” Reed gives him a questioning glare, but there is no type of answer. “Or it could be delivered here, if that is your preference.”

“Why do you _care_?” Reed says, and he truly sounds confused.

“Because you’re my partner,” Nines says. “And as it seems you don’t necessarily want to keep your body in operating condition, it seems it’s left on me to assure you do.”

“I don’t need you fuckin’ babysitting me,” Reed starts, and Nines cuts in before he can continue.

“I’m not babysitting you,” Nines denies. “Why are you fighting me on this? It’s obvious that you’re hungry, and while you’re denying yourself food I’m only attempting to get you to eat.” Reed looks a bit taken aback by this, but Nines persists. “Now I would rather you order your own food like an adult, or if you’re going to remain obstinate, I’ll order your food and feed it to you, if you’re going to continue acting like a child.”

That was supremely satisfying to say.

He knows that Reed is going to say something in return, some curse and threat of violence, but Nines sends a pointed look towards the captain’s office, and it stops his retort in it’s tracks, yet again.

“Fine, what the _phck ever_ ,” he curses through his teeth, but eventually sets towards ordering from a deli four blocks to the north.

The food arrives in thirty minutes. A black bean taco salad, he notes, complete with tortilla chips and salsa, and more pico de gallo than should strictly be necessary. Despite his reservations about eating, now that the food is in front of him, he has no such hesitation, and he consumes his food in record time.

Reed doesn’t say anything afterwards, and Nines doesn’t give him the old ‘I told you so’ routine. He takes the improvement of Reed’s posture and the return of the alertness within his eyes as his satisfaction, Nines leans back in his chair, trying to hide a satisfied grin. The detective was listening to him, despite initial obstinace, but still.

It was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> Work title from "Lighthouse" by Hearts & Colors.


End file.
